


Faites Demi-Tour Avec Prudence

by blanchtt



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, SHAY DAVYDOV WEEK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:32:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: There’s traffic for miles, or so the Waze app tells her, and she’s got a headache and she’s done with her week and wants nothing more than to go home, so she takes a side-street.





	Faites Demi-Tour Avec Prudence

**Author's Note:**

> _Make a legal U-turn when possible._
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>  **Shay Davydov Week Day #1:** Favorite

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s traffic for miles, or so the Waze app tells her, and she’s got a headache and she’s _done_ with her week and wants nothing more than to go home, so she takes a side-street.

 

She thinks she might have beaten traffic for the first five minutes. Delphine smiles briefly to herself, pictures kicking off her heels and going to bed early tonight, and can’t wait. She has a vague sense of where she’s going, and follows the app without complaint.

 

Ten more minutes of silence later from Waze, though, and even she’s pretty sure she’s overshot her left turn and is now lost.

 

With a heavy sigh, Delphine pulls over, ignores the growing headache and the realization that she’s never been to this part of Toronto before, and parks her car. It’s hard to wander around and get to know the city when you’re here to work, and especially when it’s getting dark.

 

Waze is clearly useless and her choices of aid are slim at this time of the day and in this part of town, and she goes with the one she knows has free Wi-Fi and tables. She grabs her phone, her purse, and slips out, locks the car behind her and heads for the Starbucks.

 

No one except the barista at the cash register looks up when she walks in, and Delphine glances around – the coffee shop thankfully lacks the mid-afternoon crowd and its ensuing loudness. It’s not exactly busy at the moment, but there are students working in silence, a group of friends talking, and baristas milling around waiting to take orders. It would be obvious if she sat down without buying anything, and besides, Delphine remembers. Hydration is good for headaches.

 

Delphine walks up to the register, finds a woman already smiling and holding a cup in her hand, pen poised to write on it, and Delphine can’t help but smile back.

 

 _People mirror smiles_ , she reminds herself. _It’s only good customer service_. It is, of course, fruitless. The other part about being in Toronto for work – and for work that involves intense hours – is that is leaves little time to meet women.

 

“Hey,” the woman says cheerfully, drawing Delphine out of her thoughts. “I’m Shay. What can I get you?”

 

“Not coffee,” Delphine says decisively, but then stalls. She looks up behind the woman, scans the list of drinks in tiny handwriting and tries not to frown. It’s really only her second time in a Starbucks and the first experience hadn’t been memorable. She couldn’t recall the drink she had bought once even if she even wanted to. Thankful at least that no one is jostling behind her to buy their coffee, she looks back at Shay, smiles uncertainly. “I’m not sure. Which is your favorite?”

 

Shay purses her lips for a moment, asking, “Do you like tea?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Lemonade?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Thought so.” Shay smiles in satisfaction, writes down something on the cup without naming the drink, and Delphine realizes it’s going to be a surprise. “You look like you enjoy the classics. What name can I put on this?”

 

Delphine gives her name, watches Shay hand the cup off to a colleague, and then ring her up. It is nice to talk to someone not in scrubs, not a patient, someone who moves like she has all the time in the world. It’s calming – maybe being out of traffic is helping with her headache, or maybe it’s the AC, or maybe that fact that Toronto seems a little less lonely now.

 

“I’m learning a whole new set of classics,” Delphine agrees. Small-talk with cashiers, with fellow customers in lines, with strangers is still a cultural difference that still strikes her as horribly awkward and unnecessary. Yet the flow of this conversation is clear and easy to follow, and Shay gives her another smile as the total pops up.

 

“Must be exciting.”

 

“It is,” Delphine agrees. She drops her phone in her bag, done with it, and gets out her wallet, hands over her credit card, and as she does so remembers the sole reason she came in here. As Shay swipes her card, Delphine adds, “Truthfully, I’m a little lost right now and Waze is not helping.”

 

“Where are you trying to get to?” Shay asks, and hands her back her card.

 

Apparently she’s farther from her main route than she’d thought because when she gives Shay her address, the other woman lets out a laugh - not mocking, but one that Delphine feels includes her - and grabs a napkin.

 

“Remind me never to try Waze,” Shay says lightly, and begins writing on the napkin with her pen.

 

“Yes, I think I’m going to delete that app,” Delphine agrees. She looks over her shoulder quickly, but still no one – and so she leans against the counter, watches Shay jot down directions, brows furrowed in thought. “Thank you so much.”

 

“No problem," Shay says, and at the same moment Delphine hears the barista down at the corner call her name. With a quick motion of her hand that promises that she'll be back, she slips away to grab her drink, returns with it, and finds Shay waiting for her, the napkin in her hand. 

 

It’s probably a very stupid decision – she’s been fooled by small-talk before. North Americans are just so incredibly helpful that it’s difficult to tell when they’re insincere, which seems to be _never_. It’s probably all the smiling. But what she has learned is that you don’t get anywhere without trying. Fear is not really a word in her vocabulary.

 

“I don’t normally do this," Delphine starts. It's rushed and forward, and she can do better, but it's difficult to flirt in another language. "But could I get your number?”

 

That gets a raised brow out of Shay, but it's quickly followed by a nod and a smile, and Delphine feels herself untense, her breath come back.

 

“I bet you say that to all the girls who make you Arnold Palmers,” Shay says, now smirking – and this is different from the word _smile_ , Delphine knows, and means something else. Shay jots down something else on the scrap of paper, hands it to her, and says, “Let me know if you like it.”

 

It's promising, and Delphine raises her cup as if to say _santé,_ smiles back. 

 

“Of course. Thank you.”

 

 

 

 -

 

 

 

It's how, a month later, she finds herself with two things that make working in Toronto surprisingly, infinitely more enjoyable: a Starbucks membership reward card, and a very lovely girlfriend.

 

 

 

 


End file.
